Shattered Magic
by MissChriss
Summary: Harry Potter has had a terrifying vision of the future. Is there anything he can do to change it? Harry must delve deep into the heart and history of magic.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That is owned by J K Rowling I am just borrowing her characters

Summary: Harry Potter has a terrifying vision of the future. Is there anything he can do to change it? Harry must delve deep into the heart and history of magic. Independent Dark Harry NOT Evil Harry, Strong Harry NOT Super Harry

 **Shattered Magic**

Prologue:

It was dark in the Gryffindors' dorm. Outside the moon was hidden by a dense covering of clouds. It had been hours since the fifth year boys had all gone to sleep in their rows of four poster beds with dark red velvet curtains. Deep in their sleep none of the boys could feel the magic that permeated the air as it drifted throughout the room.

The magic moved to hover over the third bed on the right side of the room; the bed of fifteen year old Harry Potter. The gathering magic started to feel like ice to the sleeping boy causing him to pull the covers up to his ears and curl his knees towards his chest. However, the boy did not stir. It wasn't until the gathering magic started to flow, into him, did he rouse.

Harry eyes flew open and he thrashed around sending his covers flying to the floor. He tried to scramble out of bed and grab his wand but the magic halted his body pulling him back to sleep and into a terrible nightmare. Harry could do nothing as his mind and body were assaulted by the vision he was forced to witness. Harry clawed his hands and tried to drive his blunt finger nails into his eyes in a vain attempt to stop the onslaught of images. He scratched and scraped at the flesh sending blood flowing down his face. The magic sensing the damage gripped Harry and tore his muscles pinning him to the bed to prevent further damage.

And then as quickly as it started it was over. The magic dissipated leaving no trace that it was ever there and Harry awoke. Harry couldn't move. Every single muscle in his body was screaming in pain. He could see the movement under his skin as the muscles in his legs kept contracting. It felt as though his body was being ripped apart. He tried desperately to force air into his burning lungs. Harry was frantic. He couldn't scream, he could barely breathe and the shivering had started to set in. He was drenched in sweat; and other bodily fluids if the stench was anything to go by, and paralyzed with fear.

Ron Weasley blearily woke up from his dreams of quidditch glory with a desperate need to use the loo. Stepping out of bed he noticed Harry's covers had been thrown onto the floor. This was something he was getting use to as Harry's nightmares had him frequently thrashing. It had gotten worse since the battle at the ministry and Sirius's death. Ron quickly picked up the duvet and pulled the curtains around Harry bed back. What he saw made him scream.

"HARRY." Ron frantically reached over trying to shake his friend but Harry did not move. Harry was pale, paler than Ron ever thought was possible. His lips were a disturbing shade of blue and he was shivering violently. But it was Harry's eyes that frightened Ron the most. They were wide open, unblinking just staring straight ahead at nothing. Tears and blood were flowing down his face from wounds that looked as if Harry had tried to claw his eyes out.

Ron quickly ran over to Seamus' bed and threw the boy onto the floor.

"Bloody hell, what the hell wrong with you." Seamus shouted waking up the other boys in the dorm.

"You have to get McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey NOW." Ron told him as he dragged the boy over to Harry's bed. Seamus took one look at Harry and ran out of the dorm into the common room to use the emergency floo powder to alert his head of house of the emergency.

Within ten minutes the fifth year Gryffindor boys' dorm was full of several professors including Professor Snape, Madame Pomfrey, and the Headmaster. The Gryffindor common room was filled with half awake, panicked teenagers. And Harry Potter still had not moved.

Harry awoke and quickly took in his surroundings. He was in the Hogwarts hospital wing, surrounded by flowers, candy and stuffed toys. Harry briefly wondered if he could pretend to still be unconscious so he could have more time to process everything he had seen. He had just shut his eyes again when Madame Pomfrey walked into the room.

"Mr. Potter I see you're finally awake. You gave us all a nasty fright." She told him as she waved her wand, with its' tip illuminated like a flashlight, in front of his eyes.

"Sorry," Harry responded automatically as she moved her wand to his wrist and checked his pulse.

"No matter," she dismissed. "How are you feeling? Do you have any stiffness or lingering pain?" She asked while making various notes on his chart and waving her wand around running several diagnostics. Harry was quite familiar with her process as he had been in the hospital wing far too often for his own liking. It only took her a few minutes to run her series of diagnostic spells.

"Well everything seems to be in order; however, I would like to keep you another few days just to make sure. I've notified the Headmaster that you were awake. He should be down shortly to discuss what happened." She told him in a nice, warm voice. Harry was starting too really like Madame Pomfrey she didn't pester him with questions when he wasn't ready to talk. "Miss Granger left some school work for you on the night stand. It should give you something to do until the Headmaster arrives. And do not get out of that bed young man or I will stick you to it."

Harry however had no intention of starting his homework he had too much to think about. He knew he could not tell Dumbledore about what had happened. If what he saw was real than Dumbledore was one of the last people who should know about it.

"It was real all right." A voice spoke in his mind causing Harry to leap out of bed crouching on the floor his eyes searching frantically for both his wand and the source of the voice. "You can hear and speak to me in your mind. I am not corporeal in your reality."

"Who, what are you?" Harry thought back while grabbing his wand off of the night stand not at all reassured of the safety of the voice.

"I do not have long to talk to you. And I cannot help you. We have interfered enough as it is."

"Interfered how?" Harry asked.

"The vision we sent you. It showed the two most probable futures for this world."

"So basically we are buggered either way to Sunday. So why bother showing this to me?"

"Because you can change it," the voice told him.

"Me? I'm nothing special. I'm just Harry. It's bad enough that everyone is looking to fight Voldemort. I can't do this." Harry voice cracked he was on the verge of tears; the horrors of what he had seen in the visions were still haunting him. Worse still he was in an emotional overload from Sirius's death last week. Harry was almost looking forward to going to the Dursleys simple so he could be alone in his room or do the monotonous chores and grieve. Harry did not want to deal with anything or anyone right now. Unfortunately fate seemed to have another idea.

"You're correct. You were not special. You were born an average wizard, who would hold an average amount of magic. You were destined for mediocrity. However, in the future, as you saw, magic died. Magic doesn't just die, it shatters, and the pieces falling back through time."

"What does that have to do with ME?" Harry interrupted.

"I am getting to that. Your scar was not caused by Lord Voldemort's curse. You were cut by a broken fragment of magic. And that is why you and only you can change it. Magic itself is a part of you and magic will help you." The voice explained.

"How am I supposed to help? I don't know what to do."

"Trust in yourself and thus trust in magic and magic will lead you."

"Could you be anymore cryptic?" Harry practically shouted. That had to be the worst advice ever. How could he save magic by trusting himself?

"I do not know the path that you must travel; only that you must travel it. I do know that the first step is the visions I showed you and that you will be unable to tell anyone neither about the visions nor about your new destiny unless magic trusts that person. You are a part of magic Harry and you must learn to connect to it."

"Who are you?" Harry demanded.

"I am nothing more than a shattered fragment of magic. We wish to be whole again and only you can save us."

That was the last thing the voice told Harry. He had no time to think it over or even grasp what the voice had told him when the door to his room opened and the three people he had least wanted to see walked in and right over to his bed. Pomfrey was back and with her Headmaster Dumbledore and Snape. Harry had no idea what to tell them, all he knew was he could not tell them about his vision or the voice magic evidently just would not allow it.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That is owned by J K Rowling I am just borrowing her characters

Chapter 1: At the Dursleys'

Harry was angry. He was so angry he thought it would burst out of his skin. He wanted to feel sad. He knew he was supposed to feel sad, grieve, and do whatever it was that people do when someone dies. However, all Harry felt was rage. He could feel it simmering under his skin yearning to boil over and destroy. He thought he got it out when he, demolished Dumbledore's office but it was still there. Dumbledore wasn't the only person to whom he was angry.

Yes he was angry at Dumbledore, for ignoring him, for trapping Sirius in that house, for not listening to him, and for holding back the prophecy. He was furious that Dumbledore never told him that Voldemort could possess him. He was also angry with Snape for being a bastard and not teaching him Occlumency. He was mad at himself for not learning Occlumency in the first place, and for not being strong enough to protect Sirius, or his friends, or himself. He was furious at Bellatrix Lestrange for firing the curse that sent Sirius into the Veil. He was angry at Voldemort just because he existed. However, beyond all of that the one person he was angriest with was Sirius Black.

Harry threw his pillow against the door of his room. He was furious. How dare Sirius come into his life, promise him a family, promise to love and take care of him. How could he have the nerve to say he was going to be there for him? How dare he leave! That little part of Harry that still had hope for a family, which still somehow believed that good things happen to good people, that good things would happen to him if he just waited long enough, those thoughts in the back of his mind felt betrayed. Unfortunately in the smallest room in number 4 Privet Drive, there was no one to take his anger out on. So Harry paced and threw his pillow around and held it all inside until all he wanted to do was scream.

Albus Dumbledore was pacing back and forth in his office. Every so often he would look over to Fawkes, his phoenix, as if asking if the bird knew what to do. Ever since the events at the Department of Mysteries Voldemort had come out of hiding, there had been three Death Eater attacks and several recruitment parties. Things were going from bad to worse. So far six students had withdrawn from school their families deciding it was better for them to go into hiding than to wait and see what the Dark Lord would do. The ICW was panicking about not having the resources to handle another war.

The only good thing that had happened recently was that several death eaters, including Lucius Malfoy, had be caught and sentenced to Azkaban. However, this posed another set of problems. The more death eaters that were caught and placed in prison the more incentive Voldemort would have to siege Azkaban. If Voldemort managed to tap into the underlining power of that island and the dementors, there would be many, many more casualties. The war had truly started again.

A small white orb appeared in the middle of the office showing Professor Snape walking up the winding stairs to his office.

"Severus, do come in." Albus said before Severus Snape could knock.

"Headmaster, I have just come from a meeting." Severus told him, his voice a bit raspy due to screaming from the cruciatus curse.

"Ah yes. Do sit down. Do you need to see Poppy?"

"No, I took a potion on my way here, and will be fine until I get to my rooms. I am fully capable of taking care of myself."

"Do you have any news?" Dumbledore asked knowing that Severus liked to get straight to the point. He was not one for useless small talk, and the quicker he delivered his report the quicker he could head home and take his potions.

"I am no longer as trusted as I once was. I am kept out of many of the meetings and the members of the inner circle are very tight lipped around me. He is quite incensed about Lucius' imprisonment. He believed that Malfoy should have been able to talk himself out."

"I see. If we can get the Ministry to partially freeze his accounts. We could do great damage to Voldemort's financials."

"The Dark Lord has recruited three new members, most notably Charles Aveen from South France. The Aveen's hold much power in the French Ministry, not only that but, Aveen's grandfather was a collector of historical artifacts. I believe that The Dark Lord is hoping to find a clue to what he was been looking for." Severus told the Headmaster.

"Have you been able to ascertain what he is searching for?"

"I have tried glimpsing through several of the weaker death eaters' minds, however, whatever he is searching for he is keeping quiet for now."

"And what of Mr. Potter's vision have you found any leads into what he could have seen."

"At the time of Mr. Potter's episode there was no meeting so the Dark Lord was working alone. I could find no clue to an event that would cause Mr. Potters magical shock. I would hypothesize that since The Dark Lord has performed several rituals as of late perhaps the boy witnessed one of the darker ones. However, I am unable to deduce which ritual he could have seen as I know of none that would cause his symptoms. I gather the only way we will discover that information is if Potter were to remember. I do find it discouraging that Potter blocked the memory so thoroughly that I was unable to glean the information from his mind. I expect that it was truly horrific as Potter has seen several of the Dark Lords meetings and ministrations and has had no call to be traumatized from those visions as they are readily available in his mind."

"Thank you Severus. I am very concerned about what young Harry could have seen. I have asked Nymphadora to cover your watch on Harry's home tomorrow morning." Dumbledore told him in a soft voice.

"If that will be all I think I'll take my leave." Severus started to get up and head for the door.

"Would you like to take a lemon drop with you on your trip home?"

"No thank you." And with that Severus Snape quickly strode out of the office.

Harry sat, on the floor, in the middle of his room. His legs were crossed and he was shuffling the deck of cards for the umpteenth time. It had been four weeks since he had arrived back at the Dursleys and Harry was feeling trapped. A couple of people from the order had talked to his Uncle Vernon and since then Harry had become a prisoner. Harry never thought he would miss the endless backbreaking chores of last summer.

That first night back he was thrown into the cupboard under the stairs as soon as he walked into the house. He could hear his family discussing what to do with him. Now it wasn't just some vague threat from a wizard they have never met but a face to face with Moody was quite different. That night Harry could hear Vernon hammering and drilling and he knew he was not going to like the results. The Dursleys were truly scared and that scared him.

The next day Harry was moved back into Dudley's second bedroom. The locks were reinforced and the bars put back on the windows. The Dursleys had reemployed the cat flap method of feeding; namely by shoving a small plate of leftover food through a cat flap in the door into Harry's room twice a day. It wasn't enough and Harry refused to beg.

With no contact from his friends Harry was feeling lonelier than ever.

Three days ago Vernon had come home in a rage. He was passed over for a promotion instead they promoted Derrick Peters a boy fifteen years younger than him who was barely with the company for six months. Worse still his co-workers world jokingly refer to Peters with the W word. They kept calling him the Computer Wizard. So what if the brat graduated top of his class in Computer Science what the hell did the kid know about being Supervisor of Resource Management a title Vernon had been working toward for the past seven years.

So when he returned home Thursday evening he was furious and the only person he could take it out on was the Potter brat. So he ran up the stairs not even bothering to remove his work shoes and unlocked the door to the bedroom. Harry didn't have time to process what was happening before he was backhanded to the ground and kicked in the stomach.

It wasn't the worse beating he ever received but it was the first one in a long time. When Vernon left Harry had a sprained wrist from trying to catch himself whilst falling and rather large bruises forming on his abdomen and forearms. Harry was also pretty sure he had a minor concussion.

That was the last time he saw any food. Twice a day his aunt Petunia would roll a bottle of water under the door and twice a day she would let him out to use the loo where he would use the time to refill his water but Harry was starving. Vernon was steadfastly refusing to feed him saying he shouldn't be responsible for spending money on the freeloading waste of space.

Every time Vernon would walk past the room he would mutter horrible insults to the boy within. "No one wants a little freak like you; they unloaded you on us." He would say. "You're nothing, a waste of space. If your freaky friend really wanted you around why aren't you with them." The worse one was said last night, "The useless freak got another one of his family killed maybe that's why no one wants you around." Harry mind was repeating that over and over in his mind.

"I got Sirius killed. It was my fault." Harry muttered as he dealt the cards for another round of solitaire. Harry wasn't sure if it was the hunger or the anger he had finally turned inward but he didn't care. He was getting more and more depressed. For the first time since he was nine years old and Dudley had broken his arm by pushing him down the stairs Harry was having frequent thoughts of suicide. Honestly, he didn't care if Voldemort were to break into the room and cast the killing curse right then and there. He wanted to give up. He didn't want to be a weapon against the Dark Lord or be solely responsible for saving magic for a bunch of people he wasn't even sure deserved it. He just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up again.

Harry didn't know what to do and he was nearing a breakdown. He literally had the weight of the world on his shoulders, a prophecy, and a destiny. Not only that but he also did not know how to deal with what happened at the Department of Mysteries. Sirius was dead. Gone, he had fallen through a magical veil, something no one would explain to him other than to tell him that there was no coming back from there.

Harry stood up and started to walk around his room. He knew that he had to start something. If he kept sitting around then he would die whether by his own hand or not hadn't been decided. However, it wasn't only his life that mattered, magic would die, Voldemort would continue killing, and well everything would go to hell in a hand basket. Harry moved over to his desk. It was old and worn and Harry was sure that Dudley had jumped on it at some point because the wood was cracked and it wobbled on uneven legs.

"I need to make a list." Harry said to no one. He had gotten into the habit of talking softly to himself since he had no one to talk to at the Dursleys. The loneliness of summer was getting worse as years went by. When he was young it didn't bother him so much but now, after spending months surrounded by friends and hundreds of active students, well it made it all the worse. Now he knew what he was missing and it hurt.

"List, list, list, list," Harry chanted. Hermione always went on about lists and organization and planning. 'Lists are important,' she told him. Harry was thinking as he pulled out an old muggle notebook and a pen. He definitely missed notebooks and pens at school. He never knew how much he loved those little lines on paper until he had to struggle to write in a straight line on parchment. He was surprised his professors even read his homework during his first year. Well most of his professors. Snape just failed his papers and wrote comments complaining about his chicken scratch.

Harry sat at the desk pen in hand and just stared at the paper. He hated lists and studying schedules. "Arg!" Harry shouted and threw the pen across the room. "My brain just doesn't work like this." And Harry was right he was never any good at thinking ahead, he was more of a follow your instinct kind of guy. He knew he needed to do this sitting around thinking and planning, but it was driving him crazy. If Hermione could see him right now she would call him immature. But well she wasn't there and she didn't have everything and everyone counting on her to figure things out before it was too late.

AN: Thank you for reading. Please leave a review I really do love feedback.


	3. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed.**

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That is owned by J K Rowling I am just borrowing her characters

Chapter 2:

It has been four weeks since Harry had been back at the Dursleys' and Harry couldn't breathe. He felt like he was suffocating. Aunt Petunia finally started feeding him again, a week ago, but the week long forced fast had done its damage. He was weak and tired all the time.

Lately his nightmares had been replaced by dreams about flying. At first he was glad trying to shut his eyes whenever he could. He could practically feel the wind rushing past his hair and the smell of the grass. But then he would wake up. The walls felt closer, the room felt even smaller than the cupboard under the stairs.

Harry pressed his ears to the door, of his room, listening for the click clock of his aunt's heels hoping that she would let him out just for a few minutes. He contemplated running but discarded that idea because he was sure he would be caught. If he was caught by Vernon he knew it would be another beating and he had just barely recovered from the last. If Dumbledore caught him well along with being returned and Vernon beating him he could grantee a long lecture and many looks of disappointment not to mention that Vernon would be even angrier having freaks show up at his house. Plus Harry knew he was safer here and the thought of being captured by Voldemort frightened him. So Harry sat in his room still trying to figure out how to survive.

His aunt finally came to the door but only to shove a bottle of water and a cheese sandwich through the cat flap. "May I please use the loo Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked.

"No, your uncle is not home." was her flat reply before she quickly walked back down the hall. Harry looked longingly at the sandwich; his aunt had even gone through the trouble of toasting the bread for him something he liked but Dudley didn't. He knew his cousin preferred his to be grilled in butter rather than toasted. Sometime Harry though just maybe his aunt might not hate him but she was afraid of him and would not even think about letting him out of the room when Vernon was not home.

Harry really did love toasted cheese sandwiches but he could barely stand to eat this one. The panic of being trapped in this room was unbearable and tied his stomach up in knots. So Harry just picked up the plate and bottle and went over to his desk setting the items down onto the warm wood. Harry sat down took a deep breath trying to calm his anxiety and stared out the window into the back garden. Sometime the thought he could feel someone staring back at him, but no one was ever there he was alone.

It was nighttime that much Harry knew but where he was he had no idea. The air was salty, cool, and damp. It was the sea. Harry could feel the sand beneath his feet which was odd because he never thought of the Dark Lord as the barefoot in the sand type of person. But there he was standing in all his menacing glory black robe flowing in the wind as his toes curled in the cool wet sand. It was cold so Harry knew he was no longer in Britain.

When Voldemort turned his head Harry turned with him. He was looking out of the slotted red eyes, riding around in the head, of the man who wanted to kill him. Voldemort turned quickly to his left staring out across the waves. Suddenly a man was forming out of the sea his robe materializing from the waves themselves, a dark bluish green that was formfitting and flowed out from his waist to his feet. Bare feet like the Dark Lord. And while Voldemort's skin was pale and seemed to glow in the moon light this man was dark, his skin as black as coal. There was no way that this man was human but what he was Harry didn't know.

The dark man addressed Voldemort in a language Harry had never heard and Voldemort responded in kind. When the man looked straight into Voldemort's eyes Harry felt the presence. This Harry realized was why he was here. Voldemort needed to bring down his mental shields so that this creature could read him. Then Harry felt it, the presence was no longer in Voldemort's mind but his.

"A visitor I wasn't expecting." The voice said. It was deep and raspy almost as if the man were out of breath. "What a nasty little connection you have there. You should get that taken care of." The man continued. Harry was panicking. "Worry not young one I will not tell the man about his guest. You are safe for now." The man finished telling him then the presence was gone.

Harry tried to memorize every detail he could from this encounter. Harry felt this surge of dread well up in his gut. Whether it was him feeling it or Voldemort Harry did not know but a creature that could make Voldemort feel like this terrified him.

The man had bright golden eyes and never smiled. He handed a small box made of stone to Voldemort who gladly accepted it. Harry could physically feel the Dark Lords pleasure. It seemed to be what the meeting was about because it was not long after that they both left. Harry was surprised that there were no death eaters around he had never really seen the Dark Lord without his entourage.

Harry didn't know what this meeting was about but one thing he did know whatever it was that made Voldemort this happy did not bode well for him. The last thing Harry saw before waking up was Nagini slithering down the beach to meet her master.

Something was wrong. Harry didn't know what it was just this sinking feeling down in his gut. Harry started pacing across his room from the window to the door and back again. The panic he had been feeling the past couple of days was at an all-time high. The anger, anxiety, and fear were vibrating under his skin. It was like his body and brain wanted two completely different things. His brain was telling him to stay put, Voldemort was up to something and Dumbledore was right he needed the protection that the blood wards provided. He knew the order would come and get him in a few weeks. However, it felt like every cell in his body was saying just one thing. Run!

Running made no logical sense and if he had learned anything from the ministry fiasco and Hermione's subsequent lecture it was that he needed to stop and plan, to think things through. If he had stopped and thought about things he would have remembered the mirror or thought to try to call Sirius through the floo or any number of things before rushing off with a handful of friends and nearly getting everyone killed. Sirius died because he didn't think. Harry refused to make that mistake again.

For the past week he has been making lists. He has made lists of things he needed to do and things he needed to learn. He has made lists about reasons why Dumbledore is right and reasons why he is wrong. He figured that if he tried to make a plan for running away that he would see that it was completely illogical as he had nowhere to go and there was nowhere that would be safe to hide and if he thought he was starving now imagine how it would be on the streets. So Harry made his plan, he was going to stay the course at the Dursleys and wait for Dumbledore and the Order to rescue him. Then he would be able to ask Hermione to help him study and learn what he needed to in order to survive. Surely after telling him about the prophecy Dumbledore would have a plan to train him, Harry was sure of it. But the nagging feeling remained and all his body wanted to do was run.

It had three days since Harry had made his plan to stay and he had started making lists of things he needed to study. But Harry was sick of making lists, waiting for something to happen, and trying to plan some kind of strategy. There was no rhyme or reason to what Harry did next he just did the first thing that came to his mind. He got up, ran to his wardrobe and grabbed a worn canvas book bag and threw as much of his belongings as he could in there. Having known that his school stuff was going to be locked up he didn't bother bringing it with him home and just sent it with Ron to the Burrow.

Harry tucked his wand into the right leg pocket down by his calf of the baggy cargo pants he had inherited from Dudley's old clothes. There were a few holes in them; one that looked like it was burnt by a fag. Harry had to tie them on to his emaciated frame with a piece of hemp twine that Vernon had given him. Harry placed the bag by the cat flap in the door and waited. When he heard his aunt walking down the hall he knocked loudly on the door. "Aunt Petunia, I really need to use the loo. May I please be let out?" Harry asked. Harry did not have to wait long before he heard his aunt's heels turn around and walk back to her bedroom. Less than a minute later the jingle of keys and the locks being opened one by one and Harry knew he would be home free.

The door opened slightly and his aunt backed away from the door, as if she was afraid of him, which she was. "You have five minutes." She told him in a stern voice.

"May I please bathe Aunt Petunia it's been a week." Harry tried to sound as meek as possible; it would usually get him more time or food. His aunt liked the little bit of power she got when she heard him beg. Personally Harry hated it. He wanted to yell and scream and demand. It was probably why he was so obstinate at school.

"Fine, you have ten minutes. Don't use to good towels."

"I know use the rag towels under the sink the ones for cleaning and no hot water. Thank you Aunt Petunia." Harry interrupted.

"You have ten minutes." She sneered and locked the door to his room as if locking the door would keep the magic stench out of her nice normal house. She quickly turned away to get as far from the boy as possible.

Harry walked into the bathroom and turned on the water so as to not make his aunt suspicious. He quietly walked back towards his room and knelt down by the door reaching his hand through the cat flap and grabbing the pack he had packed. It was a hard fit through the small hole and he had to do a bit of wiggling to get the sack through but it eventually came out. Harry than tiptoed over to Dudley's bedroom knowing that Dudley had already left about an hour ago to play video games at Piers' house, and stepped over the mess all over Dudley's floor and walked over to the window on the other side of the room. Before he left Harry grabbed the tin can that he knew Dudley used to hide all his money. Harry could hear Dudley through the walls when he was telling Piers about the money he had saved and how he had a fake ID to get alcohol and fags at the off-license. Harry knew he needed a little over £10 to take the train from Guildford Surrey to Charring Cross. He wasn't about to risk taking the Knightbus. Harry also grabbed Dudley's bus pass so he could get to the station. It was about 7 kilometers from Privet drive to Guildford and Harry didn't want to walk if he could help it.

Harry jumped out the window into the tree and climbed down. When he got to the ground he started running. He wanted to put as much distance as he could between him and the Dursley's before his aunt found out he left. She was sure to tell Vernon and he would be pissed he would miss the end of the game to search for the little urchin.

AN: Okay here is the next chapter sorry for the delay. I have also updated my crossover fic Death's Master and the Walking Dead so check that out.

Please leave a review good or bad I thrive of feedback even criticism it makes me a better writer.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That is owned by J K Rowling I am just borrowing her characters

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait. I probably should have had some kind of plan when I started this fic but I was just writing by the seat of my pants and well I have no clue where I am going with this just kind of a vague idea.

Shattered Magic

Chapter 3: Breathe

When Harry finally arrived at Guildford station he felt like he was a first year again. Looking at the large brick building filled to the brim with active, busy people rushing every which direction was overwhelming. It was Kings Cross all over again. He stood at the entrance to the station and stared at all of the people bustling around. Everyone seemed to know what to do, how to buy a ticket and where to go. Harry realized that this was the first time he ever had to take a train that wasn't the Hogwarts Express. Other than going to school it was the first time he had ever been in a train station as the Dursley's had never taken him anywhere.

Harry took a deep breath as his eyes jutted around looking at everything going on around him. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Harry muttered to himself releasing the breath he didn't realize he was holding. Harry realized that this is probably what the purebloods must feel like. Harry shuttered at the thought that if he had taken muggle studies with Hermione during his third year, what would everyone think. The whole wizarding world knew he was muggle raised and if he had shown how ignorant he really was about the world…the rumors…the teasing…it would be primary school all over again, with the added bonus of the press. Harry vividly remembered being unable to answer most of the teachers questions, simple questions, and the resounding laughter and bullying thereafter. It was just he wasn't a fast learner and aunt Petunia never helped him with his homework like she did Dudley. It took him a bit longer than the other kids to learn how to read and he hated feeling stupid. However, he did eventually learn, but by then the class had moved on. Harry always felt like he was playing catch up, and Hermione's ability to lean frustrated him sometimes.

Harry reached into his pack and pulled out a blue and grey baseball cap hoping that it would help him hide his identity. Harry was about to walk over to the information desk, to ask about buying a ticket, as he did not know how to work the kiosk, when he felt a small mental pull to his left. Harry looked over in the direction where he felt the pull and instantly found himself looking at a man standing at the kiosk. The man was dressed normally, a business suit and brief case and unlike other wizards Harry had met he looked like he belonged in the muggle world. But Harry could feel it, like it was calling to him, the man was a wizard.

Harry quickly made a bee line over to the man and taped him on the shoulder, while he adjusted his hat to make sure his scar was hidden.

"Excuse me sir," Harry said.

"What do you want then boy?" The man barked.

"Could you please help me use the kiosk to buy my ticket?"

"What do you need help with a boy your age should know how? I' ain't given you any money."

"I have money. You're the first wizard I've seen and I need help with my muggle studies project?" Harry said thinking fast. Hopefully security didn't think he was begging for money as they would be liable to throw him out.

"Why didn't you just say so boy? Can't be too careful with them muggle pick pockets. Did you bring muggle money?"

"Yes sir." Harry told the man relieved that everything seemed to be going right. He knew he should have just gone to the information desk but something inside of him felt far more comfortable finding another wizard.

"Well where do you need to get to?"

"Charring Cross I need to get to Diagon Alley."

"Will you need a round trip?"

"No I'll just floo back." Harry lied expertly a gift he's had since childhood.

"Alright then pay attention. I remember when I had to learn all of this muggle stuff, damn useful too. See you type in your destination here, it's in alphabetical order so you just select C then move to Charring Cross, see its abbreviated CHX. If you memorize the abbreviation it'll make things easier." The man explained as he touched various buttons on the kiosk.

"Now then you just load you money in here, it'll be £10.10." Harry handed him the money he stole from his cousin. "You just hit this button and you ticket will come out. You have a couple of changeovers at Clapham and London Victoria stations. Do ya know how to do that?"

"Yes sir."

"Good then and be off with ya. Your train 'll be leaven soon."

"Thank you." Harry told the old man as he grabbed his bag and ticket heading off to the platform.

As Harry sat on the train he began to think about what just happened. Harry never really liked walking up to people asking for help. Harry pulled his pack up to his chest and hugged it trying to figure out what had happened. Inside his mind Harry tried to run through the events of the day.

That stupid voice told me to trust my instincts so I did. My gut told me to leave the Dursleys. Then at the train station when every logical bone in my body, which quite frankly isn't a lot, I should have gone to the information desk. Not only that how did I know to talk to that man. Nothing about his screamed wizard, and I shouldn't go up to random people and start talking about magic. So how did I know he was magic?

Harry's thoughts just kept going back and forth trying to figure out if maybe there was something he saw off about the man or maybe he had seen him before in Diagon Alley or some such place. But no matter what scenario he ran through it all came back to one thing he felt the magic. Harry didn't know what to do about that. He had never felt the magic of another person before, not unless they were casting something at him. But he felt it. It was warm and it called to him. Harry briefly wondered if it was a side effect of the vision and being cut by a piece of magic.

'It couldn't possibly have come from the vision' Harry determined because he realized that he had felt it his whole life. Every time he was around something magical he felt more comfortable. Even before he knew magic existed there were certain people, the people in the street who would randomly bow or smile at him, or random people who paid no attention to him but he felt connected to them anyway.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to see if he could feel any other magical people on the train. And that was when he felt it. Well didn't feel it to be precise. All around him were people. He was surrounded, he could hear them, see them, smell them, but it was like they were not there. He couldn't feel their magic; it was like they were each surrounded by a void. Harry didn't know how to react to that thought. He had never felt that void before, no one ever talked about being able to feel or sense magic or the empty feeling he was getting from the muggles. But it was more than that it's not that he never sensed it before, it was like he had always sensed it but never paid attention. The odd thing was that ever since he had learned about magic Harry had always believed that muggles were people who couldn't use magic and wizards and witches were people who could, like being able to paint. But at that moment he started to wonder maybe it wasn't that they couldn't use magic but that they did not have magic. Magic was not something you could access it was something that you are.

Harry got off the train and started heading towards the Leaky Cauldron. He knew what his instincts were telling him. All this time ever since he came to the wizarding world Harry never once thought about magic. Sure he could do magic, he was learning spells and potions and all sorts of things. But never once did he stop to think what was magic. How was he supposed to save magic if he didn't even know what it was? Harry knew he had to learn and the best way to learn. Hermione!

Harry felt a pleasant feeling run through his veins, magic seemed to agree. Harry let out a shaky breath held his head up high and walk with a bit more confidence than he had a minute ago. Magic felt like he made the right decision leaving the Dursleys and for the first time since leaving Harry did as well.

Three hours later Hermione Granger pulled out a piece of parchment tucked into the small leather satchel attached to the public post owl's leg. She hardly ever received public post as most of the people who mailed her had owls of their own. Hermione fished out a knut to put in the satchel as tip since the post was prepaid. She poured herself a cup of mint tea and started to read the letter.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _How is your summer going? Mine is ok. I think I am dealing with Snuffles death ok. I am still a bit angry, but I won't do anything stupid. I left Hedwig with Ron since the Dursleys don't like her all that much, but I was visiting London today and stopped by Diagon Alley for a minute and decided to mail you._

 _I've had a lot of time to think so far this summer since everything is quiet. You'll probably think I'm silly since I should have tried to figure this out first year but I was wondering. What is magic? I tried to think if maybe we covered this in class but I don't remember it ever being brought up. It's just I was all excited to learn I was a wizard and I love magic, but I don't know anything about it except how to cast some spells and such. I don't know where it comes from? Or what it is? Or even how I use it? I figured if anyone knew the answer or could help me research, or tell me what books to get it would be you, my most_ _exponetually_ _exponentially smart best friend. (See the sucking up. Six syllables too.)_

 _Anyway, I hope you're having a great summer. Don't read all day because the weather is nice so have some fun, okay._

 _-Harry_

Hermione smiled before muttering, "Honestly, boys only write when they want something." She was happy that Harry was doing alright she had been worried about how he was taking Sirius's death. She briefly wondered why Harry was in London but guessed that the Dursleys must have brought him with them on a day trip and dropped him off; her parents had done that several times so she could go shopping. Hermione was intrigued by the question that Harry asked; she wondered why she never asked that same question. She started twirling her hair around her left index figure, a gesture she frequently did when she was thinking, and most likely contributed to her split ends.

After quickly finishing her tea, and washing the cup, she ran upstairs, letter in hand, to her bedroom to look through her books for the answer. She quickly realized though that she didn't have any of the proper texts in her personal library. It was times like these that she wished she had access to the Hogwarts library during the summer. She also wished that the wizarding world had a public library. That was one of the first things she noticed about the wizarding world there were very few philanthropic wizards and nothing was free. Hermione started planning her own trip to London to go to Flourish and Blotts. She was excited to start researching this topic. She quickly penned a note to Harry that she would look into his question and get back to him as soon as she knew the answer. She complimented him on his inquiry and that she was looking forward to finding the answers.

After writing to Hermione, Harry quickly made his way to Madam Malkin's he knew he needed to blend in and all of his wizarding clothes were in his trunk with Ron. Harry didn't have time to wait for custom robes like his Hogwarts robes so he just bought and nice navy blue set off of the rack. They were light weight and came with a hood so he could hide his face. The robes unfortunately cost quite a bit and took the last of his wizarding money. However, now that he could blend in he could explore the Alley and go to Gringotts. One thing Harry knew for certain was that he could not stay at The Leaky Cauldron again. It had been too easy for him to be found during his third year and he had no desire to go back to the Dursleys. The problem was that he did not know anywhere else to stay. Harry did know that he was hungry and was looking forward to eating at some of the many café's that were in the Alley. He loved the food he had eaten when he stayed during the summer before third year. To eat and to find somewhere to stay however required money so Harry swiftly made his way through the crowds of people to the bank.

Quite honesty Harry was a bit afraid of the bank. The place was huge and it made him feel very small. The goblins tended to snarl and glare at him and he couldn't tell them apart. Harry brushed his bangs down and pulled his hood up making sure that no one could see his scar. He wished there was something he could do about his glasses but hopefully no one would recognize him. The pictures of him that had been in the newspapers, since the tri-wizard tournament, had made him extremely recognizable.

Harry had entered Gringott's Bank at around lunch time, as near as he could figure since he had no watch, and when he finally stumbled out the sun was starting to set. The sky was a brilliant mauve with bright orange shinning clouds. Harry quickly made his way to Knockturn Alley, and followed the directions that the Goblin had given him to Silver Shadow Terrace. It was a residential street off of Knockturn Alley, a place Harry was planning of avoiding, for his own safety, but he was assured that it was safe.

Dragon's Breath Inn was located on the North side, of the terrace, to the left of Bubbling Court. It was a small Inn walking distance to Both Alley's. It was less expensive than The Leaky Cauldron but catered to long term residence. While The Cauldron hand nice amenities such as a restaurant, immediate access to both Diagon and Muggle London, the Inn had small rooms with a kitchenette, a small cold cupboard and wood stove that could be used to cook with or do potions, you also had to share the bathroom with several other rooms. Harry was glad that the Goblin had told him about the place. Harry was looking forward to falling into the bed and sleeping. Hopefully everything would make more sense in the morning. What he had expected to be a quick trip to the bank had turned out to be more.

Two weeks had passed since Harry had moved into room 206 at the Dragon's Breath Inn. He had taken the time to purchase a few things in order to make the room a bit nicer, homier. A new blue duvet to replace the gray striped one that was provided made the creaky bed more inviting. Harry had also bought a nice silver picture frame where he placed a photo; Colin had taken of him, Ron, and Hermione. Harry had also purchased a few inexpensive robes to blend in to the not so nice area. While to room wasn't as nice as the Leakey Cauldron it was comfortable far more comfortable than the room at the Dursleys where he had been residing.

The Inn also came with a few amenities that neither the Dursleys nor the Leakey Cauldron offered. The Inn had a few house elves to do the laundry so as long as Harry remembered to put his robes in the hamper, as well as a gallon every week he didn't have to do any laundry. The most notable thing in the room was the small table, which served as both a desk and kitchen table, was full of new books. Books he was using to try and understand the new role he was given as an avatar for magic.

Knockturn Alley was still a place that Harry did not trust. It was full of back dealing, creepy people and even creeper shops. And quite frankly he was afraid that if any of the patrons were to get a hold of him they would either take him straight to Voldemort or sell him to the highest bidder. This was the reason why Harry was currently handing seven silver sickles to Mr. Alexi, a rather frail looking man with short gray hair and a wicked left hook not to mention quick with his wand, in order to use the floo to Diagon Alley. Mr. Alexi was also the Inn owner and was the first person to recognize Harry for who he was.

"Have a good day, Mr. Harold." Mr. Alexi called out to Harry who was going by the alias of Evenstar Harold.

Mr. Alexi had graciously helped Harry hide his identity. They had chosen the last name Harold so that Harry wouldn't get confused when someone called out his name and Evenstar to honor his mother. Mr. Alexi had offered his help if in return if Harry allowed him, when Harry returns to school at the end of the summer, to run an advert stating that Harry Potter stayed at his Inn and recommends it. Mr. Alexi, having been a former Slytherin, knew a good deal when he saw one and knew that having Potter's endorsement would mean a lot of new business and revenue. He could finally make most of the repairs and renovations he had been planning on but had been unable to afford. He also wanted to ingratiate himself to Harry as the war had started again and he knew, having a bit of seer blood in his family that allying himself with Potter would save his life. He didn't know how as he could not have visions but he had a gut feeling and that was enough for both him and his wife. The world was changing and he wanted to survive to see it.

Harry pulled up the brown hood of his cloak in order to cover his hair. Martha Alexi, Mr. Alexi wife, who insisted everyone call her Martha, had given Harry a tutorial on magical cosmetics. Harry now knew enough to make Lavender Brown jealous. She taught him how to brew the potion to lighten his hair to a soft sable brown. Harry thought soft sable brown was a ridiculous name for a hair color but she insisted that knowing the proper name for the color helped the potion be more accurate every time he brewed it, otherwise the subtle differences in shade would alert others to it not being his natural color and may lead them to uncovering his disguise. Personally he though she just liked the idea of him muttering that ridiculous phrase over and over again while he brewed his new hair rinse.

She also bought him some magical cover up and foundation. While the scar was still there the makeup helped blend in with his skin and his bangs helped cover it up nicely. The new thin wire rimmed glasses and one could not tell him from any other young wizard roaming around the streets. Harry however was a bit paranoid so he tended to always have his cloak pulled up. It served to hide him more and made him appear older than he was. Magic also seemed to want to add in its' two knuts as every time he left his room it would gently age him to mid-twenties. Both Martha and Mr. Alexi thought perhaps he might have latent metamorphagus abilities, Harry told them he would look into it when he had the time.

Harry stepped into the floo and swirled off into the fire landing neatly in one of the public floo's in Diagon Alley. It had taken him nearly a week of twice daily flooing in order to get the hang of landing up right and properly, while he still felt a bit dizzy when landing but he didn't land sprawled out like a fool anymore.

Harry walked down the alley to a small outdoor café with yellow umbrellas over every table. He took a seat at the third table next to a topiary plant made of three orbs. It reminded him of a green leafy snowman which was why he made it his regular table.

"Good morning, Mr. Harold." The skinny waiter greeted him. "Would you like your usual?" Harry had made it a habit to eat at The Garden Cat café as it was in the center of the alley and the atmosphere always made him feel relaxed. He enjoyed having breakfast and watching the people bustle around greeting each other and getting their shopping done. It didn't hurt that the food was amazing and everyone was polite.

"No thank you. I think I would like the pancakes with lemon and sugar please as well as a pumpkin juice. Harry felt like treating himself so he had forgone his usual tea with eggs and rashers. Last week he also treated himself to a caramel apple and cheese Danish and it was the best thing he had ever eaten.

"Your order will be out shortly." The waiter replied before leaving.

Harry really wished that he could share his new found freedom with his friends but he knew it was too dangerous. He loved Hermione and Ron but he knew that Hermione would tell Dumbledore and Ron would try to wheedle him into coming to the Burrow. Hermione always had this annoying habit to want to tell adults things. It wasn't her fault she was raised properly. And Ron well he would just want someone at his house to protect him from his mother and the twins who seemed to think that summer was made for chores and pranks. He knew his friends meant well and that it was the right thing to do but Harry was not ready to give this up.

Harry knew that this freedom was something he desperately needed. He didn't realize just how close he was to the edge before. He had been constantly terrified since the end of the school year that he was going to get everyone around him killed. That it was his fault that his friends were in constant danger. There were times still where it overwhelmed him and he feared that everyone around him was going to get killed because of him. He felt that he should just lock himself away to protect everyone. But those feeling were becoming fewer and far between. For the first time Harry felt like he could just breathe.

AN: Thank you for reading. Please leave a review, good or bad.


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That is owned by J K Rowling I am just borrowing her characters

AN: I feel as though my pacing is a bit slow. What do you guys think? Should I speed things up or do you like the way the pacing is now?

 **Shattered Magic**

 **Chapter 4:**

Baneshred Manor, England

When they heard the door open the rats screeched and scurried across the room, in all directions, and ran through the crevices in the walls. They knew of the monster that lived in the dungeon ready to devour them. The large behemoth snake who took such pleasure squeezing them till their bones break and blood fills their lungs. However, the little creatures didn't have enough sense to leave the castle, not enough common sense and self-preservation to find new accommodations. This amused Voldemort as he watched Nagini slither and hiss with glee as she hunted down a tasty treat. However, he didn't have time today to watch his beloved pet play with her food.

"Jardine," Voldemort called out to the Death Eater standing in the hallway. Jardine was thin frail looking man with thick glasses and a receding hairline. He was also one of the world's best researchers. If you wanted something found Monroe Jardine was the man to go to.

Voldemort walked into the large, cavernous room and straight to the stone alter standing in its center. He paused briefly to send a silent spell lighting the multitude of torches and candles in the room.

"Oui, My Lord." The simpering man replied with a think French accent.

"Have your men found my map?"

"Non, however, zee are getting close."

"Excssslent." The Dark Lord hissed.

Bottom of Form

"My Lord, do you tsink it wise?" Jardine asked the Dark Lord. He knew it was a risky question but it was one he felt needed to be asked.

"You dare question me." Voldemort barked.

"No, My Lord." And while he knew that The Dark Lord should never have access to the map much less the power it led to he was not strong enough nor brave enough to stop him. Jardine fell to his knees ignoring the pain he felt when his bones hit the unforgiving stone floor. He hoped that the show of submission would placate the irate Dark Lord.

"I will have that power, it will be mine." The Dark Lord ranted.

"It iz too much power; it was sealed away for a reason it was not meant for man." Jardine tried to tell the man in a last ditch effort to convince him to seek another way.

"I am not just any man I was meant to control it. Now rise fool, how many have we found."

"Five, My Lord."

"Don't just stand there go and retrieve them." With that Jardine stood up and practically ran out of the room.

Twenty minutes later the door opened and Jardine shoved five women into the room. They were dirty and their hands bound behind their backs. Heavy chains were shackled to their ankles cutting into their fragile skin and dripping blood down their bare feet onto the floor.

"Ladies how nice-sss of you to have joined me?" The Dark Lord hissed. His voice was deep and rumbling and full of sarcasm. The woman shivered in pure terror as they realized to whom they were being presented.

MWMWMWMWMWMWMW

Harry decided that he had to be careful while walking around Diagon Alley as he had seen Hermione walking around a few times. She had been in and out of several book shops and had spent a few days reading at the cafes and ice cream shop. He wanted to tell her to slow down and enjoy summer, but he had spied on her one day as she was eating ice cream while reading and taking notes. She looked so happy. Hermione was always happiest when she was on a mission and in research mode.

As Harry ate his pancakes he made sure he had everything he needed for the day. He had brought his new satchel with him, which he had bought last week. It was technically made to carry groceries but Harry loved all of the special compartments and the featherweight charm.

Harry had learned that wizards didn't have processed or tinned foods. Everything came fresh. Fresh baked bread, fresh vegetables, freshly killed meat. He was used to preparing canned or frozen food when he cooked for the Dursleys. Tinned soup had nothing on Fresca's homemade. She sold it at the market next to her family's produce stand. Everything was organic, as the wizarding world had no use for chemical pesticides, since there were several charms made for just that purpose that wouldn't poison the food. His aunt Petunia would have loved it if she could have gotten over the fact that the food was grown by wizards. Harry use to hear her go on and on talking to her friends about organic food and how much healthier it was. She insisted that was the reason why she had no wrinkles. Harry always figured it was because he had never heard of a wrinkled horse but that might have been the bitterness talking. The bag had a feather weight and space expanding charm. It also had three compartments, one for meat, one for produce, and another for bread and eggs so they wouldn't break or be squashed. Harry figured that the bag would work well for his task, as it would hold more than his rucksack.

MWMWMWMW

Harry quickly finished his pancakes and headed to the Saturday Street Fair. It was something he looked forward to every weekend. Watching the entertainers use magic to dance with fire, and play jaunty music. He especially liked listening to the storyteller at the small park off of Mysty River Rd. It was something he never got to do as a child and the little fables made him forget about his troubles for a while.

Harry loved exploring the area it was far larger than he ever thought. There were many side streets and little parks. There were large residential areas all of which were hidden from London. So far Harry had spent his time playing a little pickup game of quidditch, watching street performers and even catching a few lectures at the convention center. That was one thing Harry never thought he was going to do over the summer, enjoy learning.

Almost every evening at the convention hall, they had a guest lecturer who came to discuss some aspect of magic. Most of the weekday ones were boring and given by students trying to obtain their mastery in certain subjects. Their master's thesis tended to be boring and hardly anyone showed up, including Harry. However on the weekends the hall was packed as a master or prominent figure would speak. Harry always tried to sign up for several weekend lectures every weekend. He had even seen Hermione at a few of them.

Last week Harry was glad he had attended the lecture on personal finance. It was headed by a couple of goblins from Gringotts as well as a few prominent businessmen. They went over investment options, organizing a portfolio, and how to keep your household account balanced. Even though Harry was riveted he was sure he phased out a few times and was glad that he had written down the supplementary reading that they had recommended. While he had yet to read the books he had purchased he knew that he was going to eventually need the information in order to run his accounts. They had also given the street and floo addresses of several major financial advisers.

Today Harry was nervous and a bit excited about the lecture that was being given. Severus Snape and Addison Parker were jointly speaking about the vitality of multi-saturated sub-tropical botanical based ingredients. Word around town was that any lecture given by Potions Master Professor Snape was worth going to. That was surprising to him never in his life would he ever think anyone would voluntarily attend a class given by Snape but the lecture was sold out Harry was lucky to get a ticket.

It was nearing two o'clock when Harry entered the Simion B. Rockwell Convention Hall. Harry loved the center, it was massive and larger on the inside than the out, a feat of magic that fascinated Harry and almost made him want to study runes and arithmacy the key components to the expansion. The white stone walls were accented with bits of gold and painted murals by several very famous wizarding artists. The hundreds of floating glass pillars filled with fire illuminated the entire hall.

Harry took his seat next to a blond woman in her forties with a rather spotty completion. She too had a pre-filled quill and a journal to take notes. Harry noticed that more people than usual were preparing to take notes. It was an unusual sight. Last week when he was here there were half as many people filling the space and many of them looked like they would have rather have been elsewhere. Today everyone was staring at the podium with rapt attention waiting for the lecture to begin.

When the lecture began Harry was flabbergasted. He had never heard Professor Snape sound like that. He knew the man loved potions but the man was truly passionate. The room was hushed as Professor Snape began to speak.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Snape began. "This year I had the honor of participating in several potions symposia around the world. Whilst in attendance I had the pleasure of working with some of the finest minds in the potions community including one of my previous students Addison Parker. Addison was one of the brightest potions students to come out of Hogwarts in years. I was privileged to recommend her to my mentor Justavin Du LaRivere. Much to my dismay however, Addison did not follow me into the world of the theoretical but instead settled into applied potioneering. " Addison was a short witch, with mousy brown hair, who appeared to be in her mid-twenties. She stepped forward to join professor Snape on the stage. She introduced herself then took a seat in the plush chair to the right of the Podium.

Harry looked at the girl and briefly wondered what house she had been in. She didn't look like a slytherin she looked too pleasant for that. She kind of reminded him of Hermione with her slightly curly hair. Harry looked away realizing that he had missed a small portion of Snape's speech.

"I tried to explain to her that theoretical work was the key to understanding and developing complex magical reactions. Understanding the multifarious details of the magical reactions in potions is the vital ingredient in the design of not just new potions but new perfect potions. She disagreed." There was a slight laughter that rang throughout the auditorium. What do you know Harry thought; Snape made a joke.

"Imagine my surprise when she contacted me a year ago saying she needed a theorist to help with her potion's formulae."

MWMWMWMWMWMWM

When Harry left the lecture his mind was running five kilometers a minute there was just so much to take in. He quickly put the metal protection tip on his quill and placed both the quill and the notebook into his satchel. He didn't expect the light rain that was currently falling; perhaps he should have spent more time reading the weather report that morning but that was neither here nor there. He just pulled up the hood of his brown cloak and ran off towards the café hoping to beat the crowd and get a seat before the dinner rush.

"Right this way." The waitress told him as she led him to a small table by the windows. Harry vaguely recognized her as a Hufflepuff girl who had graduated the year before but he honestly couldn't have given her name if his life depended on it. He realized earlier that week that he knew very few people in general and was undecided if that was a good or a bad thing.

"Thank you for joining us at Twixberry, here are a list of our specials." She said in a bright cheery voice handing Harry a small menu. "Can I get you anything to drink?" She asked.

"Butterbeer," Harry ordered and quickly glanced down at the specials menu "and I'll take the pot roast." The waitress quickly wrote down the order and snapped her fingers causing the parchment to disappear with a sparkle of red light and she walked away to attend to another table.

Harry pulled out his notes from the lecture and had just started reviewing them and trying to make his chicken scratch legible when his drink arrived. It was then that the thoughts came. One moment he was calmly sipping his drink, enjoying the cool, sweet, and slightly spicy liquid, and the next he was looking at his notes quill raised to underline a simple basic theory that Snape had outlined during the lecture when he thought I should have understood that. After that the thoughts kept coming, maybe Snape was right he was a dunderhead. Uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia had always called him stupid; that stupid, worthless freak. He then thought back to St. Gregory Primary and the other kids mercilessly calling him a retard, and over hearing the teacher telling his aunt that he was slow. Then the most dangerous thought of all, if he was only just a little bit smarter, he could have saved Sirius.

The thoughts were cycling now he could practically hear the voices condemning him. He could barely breathe. Here he was just wasting his summer away when he should've been doing something, anything to learn or else others were going to die; everyone was going to die.

It took every ounce of strength in his body to reach into his bag and grab three galleons and place them on the table. He then packed up his notebook and quill and calmly walked out of the restaurant. He said nothing to no one, just walked quickly back to the Inn. He paid no mind to the rain which was heavily falling, nor to the two wizards throwing punches right in the middle of the square. He walked passed the convention center, took a left at the fountain. He continued straight into Knockturn Alley and made a left at the statue of a hag and turned onto Silver Shadow Terrace. He walked directly into Dragon's Breath Inn not even pausing to acknowledge Martha as she asked him how his day was. Harry walked up the three flights of stairs and directly into his room where he promptly threw his bag and cloak on the floor and flopped on the bed not even pausing to remove his shoes. He grabbed his pillow and smashing it to his face and screamed.

MWMWMWMWMWMWM

Severus Snape looked up as Dumbledore's phoenix flamed into his lab in an obnoxious display of pyrotechnics. He had barely been back in his lab for two hours after his lecture and the subsequent dinner with the other guest lecturers. And while it had been a delight spending time with his former student and friends he was exhausted. However, he had potions to brew.

"I don't have time for this." Snape muttered under his breath as he placed his potion under stasis with a quick wave of his wand. He needed to get these potions finished. The Dark Lord demanded they be in his hand by Wednesday.

Snape grabbed the note clutched in the bird's talons and quickly read it. As soon as Snape grabbed the letter Fawkes flew up and flamed out of the room.

"Wonderful, another order meeting, that is the third one this week. What had the Dark Lord done now?" Snape quickly extinguished the flame under his cauldron and cast a stronger stasis charm before grabbing his cloak. He headed towards his fireplace and was about to grab the floo powder when he decided to grab the potion sitting on the table instead. He took a few swills of the pepper up potion, in order to fortify himself, and floo to Grimauld Place.

He could hear Molly shoo her horde of brats up the stairs when he arrived. He mentally thanked the gods that he wasn't her husband as he was sure he would have either killed himself or all of his children long before now. Ronald was noisily protesting being left out stating that since he actually fought the Death Eaters he deserved to be part of the meeting. Taking pity on the screeching woman Snape walked over to the stairs and just glared at the second youngest Weasley sending his cowering up the stairs.

He had maybe been in the meeting room for five minutes when Albus came bursting through the doors looking more haggard than Severus had seen him in years. For once there were no needless introductions or greetings Albus got straight to the point.

"Harry Potter is missing." That statement rang through the Order shocking everyone present.

"What do you mean missing?" Molly Weasley asked fear flooding her voice.

"I mean the wards protecting his home had fallen and when I went to investigate his relatives informed me he had run away some three weeks ago." Dumbledore answered.

Severus moved his hand to rub his temples. He knew that this did not bode well for him and he doubted that he was going to see a solid night's sleep in the upcoming weeks. Couldn't that boy just stay out of trouble for once in his god forsaken life?

Please leave a review. Tell me what you think. How is my pacing?


	6. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Happy New Year everyone. I have not abandoned this fic it has just taken me a long time to figure out where I was going with this plot. I was at a point where I couldn't keep writing by the seat of my pants without knowing where I was going.

Chapter 5: Scream

Harry ran frantically looking around for any place to hide. However, there was nothing but an open field all around him. Harry faintly thought that if he could get to the tree line, about a kilometer away, that maybe, just maybe, he might get out of this alive. However things weren't looking good and as far as he could tell his pursuers were just toying with him. They were laughing; one cast a tripping jinx sending him crashing to the ground face first. He could taste the tang of blood as it dripped down from his nose into his mouth. He wasn't sure how he always got himself into these situations but he was starting to think screw the cat curiosity was going to kill the Potter.

MWMWMWMWMW

The past two days Harry had been afraid to leave the Inn. He had seen Ron and the rest of the Weasleys running about Diagon Alley all with worried looks. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were looking for him. He felt a bit bad about making them worry but Harry wasn't ready to give up his freedom.

Harry figured that if he just laid low for a couple of days they would assume that he wasn't in the area and move on with their search. He wished he could have waited another day or two before venturing out of his room, but he had an appointment at Gringotts that was far too important to miss.

After the meeting with Warthrop, he was feeling slightly dizzy from the information, so when he saw Remus and Tonks outside the bank he panicked and hightailed it as fast as he could not paying any attention to all the turns he made. That's when he saw her. Bellatrix Lestrange, that bitch who killed his godfather. Harry fingers twitched with the need to curse her but he held back opting instead to follow her. Whatever she was up to wasn't good and he figured the more information on what Voldemort was planning the better.

Bellatrix practically skipped into a shady looking pub at the end of Bloud Avenue. Harry quietly climbed up on some boxes and peered into the window. He was so focused on watching her that he didn't notice as two vampires walked up behind him, grabbed him, and apperated away.

Harry didn't remember much about what they said after he landed but he did remember the sharp teeth of the vampires, and that the taller one smiled at him in a way that reminded him of Snape when Snape caught him out after curfew. The next thing Harry knew he was kicked in the ribs and being told to run. So run he did. Now blood was dripping down his face and he could barely get enough oxygen to keep going.

There was no way he was going to make it to the trees.

'I'm going to die,' Harry thought as he was caught by another tripping hex and stumbled to the ground. That's when he remembered Ron telling Hermione, 'are you a witch or not'. Harry pulled out his wand and turned around figuring that if he was going to die he was going to die facing his enemy, head held high. So he planted his feet, took a deep breath and shouted the first spell he could think of.

"Bombarda."

The vampires easily dodged the spell not even missing a step.

"Well lookie here the wizard has a bit of fight in him after all." The shorter vamp said to the taller one.

"I love it when they fight back, makes them taste sweeter." The taller one responded.

Harry started sending spell after spell at the two but each time they dodged effortlessly. He just couldn't match their speed. The taller one quickly came up behind him and seized him by his hair firmly yanking him back into to his arms and tilting his neck to the side. Harry barely had time to register what was happening when a woman's voice echoed though his head and then he heard a scream unlike anything he had ever heard before.

The next thing he knew the vampires were unconscious and he could barely concentrate enough to remember his name. He did however remember an elderly woman; she was thin and frail wearing a blue dress. She was picking him up and handing him his wand. She was asking him something but he couldn't focus hard enough to understand. Finally after a minute of trying to decipher what she was saying he vaguely remembered the word where.

"Diagon Alley," Harry responded thinking she was asking where he came from. He didn't have time to think as he was quickly appereated back into the alley. Harry turned to thank the woman but she was gone and he was standing just outside The Leaky Cauldron. Harry rushed inside and directly to the counter where Tom the barkeep was standing serving a pitcher of butterbeer to a rather rowdy group of wizards.

Tom took one look at the boy, noticing his ripped robes and bleeding face, and ushered him into the back room. Harry for the first time since running away thought that maybe Dumbledore was right and he should have listened. Harry couldn't help the sinking feeling in his gut he felt with that thought. It wasn't long after that then Dumbledore was called and Harry was being escorted to Grimmauld Place and Tonks went to Dragon's Breath Inn to collect the rest of his belongings.

MWMWMWMWMWMWM

Grimmauld Place was exactly as Harry remembered it. Somehow he thought it would be different. Harry had scarcely walked three steps into Grimmauld Place when Mrs. Weasley descended upon him and engulfed him in the tightest hug he's ever felt.

"Oh, let me look at you." She muttered as he held him at arm's length seemingly trying to diagnose him with her eyes. "Where have you been young man? What happened to you? Never mind that you are much too skinny, and don't worry about that nose I'll have that fixed up in a tick." Mrs. Weasley cooed not giving Harry anytime to answer before she swept him out of the room and into the kitchen.

Molly Weasley promptly nudged Harry into a chair and served him a bowl of stew she had simmering on the stovetop. She then quickly pulled out her wand and got to work fixing his nose with episkey, and mending his robes with a spell that Harry did not recognize. She was tutting and casting but Harry was not paying attention to any of it. Everything felt wrong and his ears were still ringing.

When the other members of the Order started filing in and questioning Harry about where he had been and why he left the Dursleys Harry just stared down at his shoes in shame.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, "Dumbledore was right I should never have left." Just as Harry finished saying this he heard a voice whispering behind him. It was soft and he couldn't make out what it was saying but when he turned to look there was nothing but a wall behind him.

It took hours for Harry to finish explaining everything that had happened, well not about the vision, or feeling magic, or what happened at the bank, but everything else. By the time he headed upstairs to bed, he was exhausted and a headache was forming behind his right eye. What hurt the most, even more than his ribs, were the looks of disappointment on everyone's face, from Dumbledore, to Hermione, even Remus looks so utterly disappointed in him. Worse still was when he overheard Snape muttering, "Didn't he learn his lesson from getting the mutt killed."

Lying down Harry just wanted this day to end and the ringing in his ears to stop.

MWMWMWMWMWMW

'If you trust him you will die.'

Harry turned around abruptly, trying to find the owner of that damn voice.

"Did you hear that?" he asked a confused Hermione who had nearly walked into him when he stopped in the middle of the hallway.

"Hear what?" she asked looking at him worriedly.

"That voice."

"There is no one here but us; perhaps we should have Mrs. Weasley check you out again. You might have hit your head when you were attacked." She was looking at him with a very concerned expression.

Harry was getting a bit worried now. It had been four days since he arrived back at Grimmauld Place and that barely there whisper of a voice had been taunting him. Murmuring around corners and mumbling just over his shoulder. Harry was starting to think he was going mad. The dreams were the worst; night after night he kept watching them burn. Every night he would watch as Hogwarts burnt to the ground with hundreds of people trapped inside and Harry himself trapped right there with them. One thing Harry knew for sure was that the voice was very different from the basilisk in his second year. There was no underline hissing and the voice was most definitely not coming from the walls.

"Never mind, let's go and find Ron before he eats all the food." Harry said with a smile on his face. He didn't want to be checked out for the third time in as many days the others were starting to look at him worriedly and Harry was afraid that they were getting close to committing him to the psych ward. It was bad enough that the newspapers spent most of last year calling him crazy, for saying that Voldemort was back, Harry wasn't about to prove them right, now that he had finally proven he was sane all along. So Harry was determined to keep his head down and pray that Dumbledore would have a plan to keep him alive.

MWMWMWMWM

Harry and Ron sat on the plush green armchairs in the recently cleaned parlor. Ron loved the large room, it was heads and tails better than anything at the Burrow. There was an opulent fireplace, luxurious chairs and one of the nicest chess sets he had ever seen. Better still, in Ron's opinion, was the plate of cinnamon biscuits which him mum had baked on account that he had finally finished his summer homework. Not like he had much of a choice with Hermione nagging him and him mum gushing over how Harry had completed his assignments even when he was on the run.

"You ok mate?" Ron asked after Harry rubbed his ears again. "Ya know, mum's got the great remedy for an earache."

"My ears are fine." Harry replied, bringing his attention back to the game of chess they were playing, "Knight to D4." The chess piece looked at him in indignation unable to believe that this idiot could walk not to mention attempt to play chess. But the black knight did as he was told and was captured with the next move by Ron's Rook.

Ron looked at Harry unbelievingly as Harry shrugged his right shoulder up to rub at his ear.

"It's' got all this ginger in it so it don't taste half bad." Ron told his friend.

"What doesn't taste bad?" Harry asked

"My mum's ear potion."

"Why are we talking about your mum's ear potion?" Harry asked pulling himself into full focus trying to ignore the dull roaring that he was hearing since he woke up.

"Because you have an earache," Ron replied.

"No I don't."

"Whatever mate, it's your pain."

MWMWMWMWMW

It was the middle of the night and Harry couldn't breathe. He was sitting in bed coated in sweat, gasping for air and trying desperately to calm his heart rate. It was that dream again, Harry could still feel the heat of the flames. Worse was the smell. Harry was choking on the smoke and ash of the hundreds of people being burnt alive trapped inside Hogwarts. Harry ran his tongue across the roof of his mouth trying to dislodge the taste of burning refugees.

Harry slowly got out of bed and quietly made his way across the hall and down the stairs towards the kitchen and a much needed glass of water. However, Harry abruptly stopped on the first floor landing when he heard Dumbledore's voice.

"I am worried about young Harry." Dumbledore said his voice full of concern.

"I don't know what to tell you. I've checked him three times and there is nothing physically wrong with him." Madam Pomfrey replied.

"Do you think these might be symptoms of Grief?"

"Perhaps," Madam Pomfrey agrees. "However, I am not a trained in mind healing. All I can say is that there is nothing physically wrong with him. His ears and brain are fine; he has no cranial swelling and no signs of a concussion."

"I was afraid of that."

"Well what did you expect; the poor boy has watched Cedric and his godfather die and has received no counseling for either event. Not to mention what happed during his first and second years. You keep forgetting he is only a child."

"I know that Poppy, and I am trying my best to keep him as far from the war as possible but that is impossible as he is the center of it."

"Well what are you going to do now? You need get him a mind healer." Madam Pomfrey said sternly.

"It's not that easy, after what happened in the papers last year if it gets out that he is seeing a mind healer it could make things worse. The press is a terrible adversary and the students can be even worse."

"I don't know what to tell you Albus."

Harry didn't wait around to hear what Dumbledore said after that. He forewent his drink and quietly slipped back into to bed, pulled his knees up to his chest and covered his ears trying desperately to block out both the soft roaring sound, the whispering, and the conversation he had just heard.

When next Harry awoke it was morning, and unlike when he woke up earlier he was freezing. His skin was cold and clammy and Harry couldn't stop shivering. Grabbing the blanket Harry tried to get warm, even knowing that it was futile. It was just his body's way of dealing with the stress, but Harry was steadfastly refusing to let it get to him. He was going to prove to Dumbledore and everyone that he wasn't crazy and that he did not need a mind healer. So Harry took a deep breath, forced himself out of bed and scampered to the bathroom down the hall.

As fast as he could muster Harry striped down and jumped into the hot shower.

"You can do this," Harry muttered to himself. "If you know that they are hallucinations and that they are not real than you are not crazy." Harry tried to reassure himself. Harry took a deep breath of the hot steam and continued reassuring himself for the next twenty minutes before he felt confident enough to exit and face everyone.

Harry was feeling much better by the time he made his way down to breakfast. He was finally warm and the noise was at a tolerable level, just a low hum.

"Morning Harry," Both Mrs. Weasley and Hermione greeted him.

"Morning," Harry replied with a smile on his face.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione enquired looking up from her book

"He wanted to sleep in while he still could."

"I swear that boy." Mrs. Weasley said as she handed Harry a large bowl of porridge speckled with currants. Harry poured himself a tall glass of pumpkin juice and sat down next to Hermione.

"You look better today." Hermione commented.

"I feel better." Harry lied. "I think it was just residual stress."

"That's great. I was really starting to get worried. You've been so spaced-out lately."

Harry and Hermione chatted over breakfast as the rest of the house came to join them eventually moving into the sitting room. Ron joined them nearly two hours later and trio started a rather amusing game of exploding snap.

By lunch time however, the hum was getting louder and it took an enormous amount of will power on Harry's part to ignore the whispering. His head was starting to hurt but Harry was determined to show mind over matter and ignore the hallucinations. He wanted nothing more than to get away from his friends and the constant chattering.

"I think I am going to go work in the garden." Harry told them.

"Why?" Ron blurted.

Harry was starting to wonder about his lazy friend's aversion to any sort of work.

"I don't know. I guess I'm just use to working in the garden for the Dursleys and I miss it." This was partially true Harry supposed but really he just wanted a bit of peace.

"Whatever mate?"

The garden was a mess; no one had touched it since Walburga had died. There were weeds and over growth everywhere. The roses were completely dead and had no hope of revival. Harry quickly got to work, squatting down in the dirt he started pulling out the weeds and placing them in the lid of the metal waste bin. It didn't take long for Harry to start relaxing and his mind to drift away. And for the first time in days the persistent hum seemed to fade away.

While working Harry started to really think about the noise. What if everyone was wrong and there was really something to it. Did it have something to do with what magic told him? Was that why only he could hear it? Did it have anything to do with the nightmares and the persistent wrong feeling in his gut? And why did it start to get worse all of a sudden? When it first started a week ago he could barely hear anything and it was inconsistent. Now it was ever prevalent and getting worse. If something was going to happen it was going to happen soon. Whatever it was, was gaining power increasingly. Harry quickly blocked the thoughts from his mind when the hum started coming back and concentrated on the task at hand.

By dinner Harry was feeling quite proud of himself he had successfully ignored all the ambient whispering around him and was happily chowing down on Mrs. Weasley's pot roast and carrots. Tonks, whose hair was a rather vibrant violet, was talking animatedly about some hijinks she got up to during auror training. Fred and George were listening adamantly clearly amused, after all hijinks and pranks were their passion. Hermione was grilling Remus for as much information as she could from her old professor, finding his knowledge of magic fascinating especially his knowledge of creature laws. Ron and Ginny were arguing about the prospects of the Holly Head Harpies vs. The Cannons.

Everyone seemed to be having a good time including Harry; however, it was soon becoming apparent that something was wrong. As much as he was trying to ignore the noise it was steadily growing worse. The low hum was accompanied by a high pitch ring and he was finding it almost impossible to concentrate on anything but the food in front of him. And as delicious as it looked the pulsating pain in his head was turning his stomach.

After viciously stabbing at a potato Harry realized that Hermione was asking him a question, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. All the voices around the table were blurring together and Harry couldn't pick one voice out from the other. The ringing was getting louder and louder and Harry felt like he could barely breathe.

It was ringing and ringing, the whispers which were mostly inaudible were finally full words but they were so loud he couldn't make them out. Then out of nowhere the voice was clear as day ringing out from the cacophony.

"Cover your ears Boyo." It was repeating over and over, louder and louder. So Harry did the only thing he could. He dropped his fork covered his ears and screamed.

Author Note: Thanks for reading please leave a review. I based this chapter off of one of my all-time favorite short stories. Can you guess which one?


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